


I Think I Need Help

by Ilovecastiel18



Category: Broadchurch
Genre: Alec Hardy Needs A Hug, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Ellie Miller (Broadchurch) Needs a Hug, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fights, Gen, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Suicide Attempt, Triggers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-22
Updated: 2020-04-22
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:00:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23784316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ilovecastiel18/pseuds/Ilovecastiel18
Summary: Post Series 2. Hardy and Ellie get into a huge fight at his house. Ellie storms off, leaving Hardy emotionally vulnerable and extremely upset. Ellie returns a while later to find him in the midst of a suicide attempt. TRIGGER WARNING: Graphic depictions of blood and a suicide attempt. Heavy angst, some hurt/comfort. Language warning. One-Shot.
Relationships: Alec Hardy & Ellie Miller
Comments: 6
Kudos: 87





	I Think I Need Help

**Author's Note:**

> Please, please, please take care of yourselves. If reading about a suicide attempt will trigger you, I beg you not to read this story. I don’t want anyone to get hurt. If you need help, I urge you to call a loved one or a suicide prevention hotline. Suicide is not the answer; take it from someone who knows. Even if things seem so dark that you feel that there will never be light in your life again, I implore you to stick it out. Know that things will get better. They did for me.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own these characters, locations, storylines, or anything else from the show Broadchurch. If I did, I would not be sitting around writing fanfiction, and I certainly wouldn’t have such a strong desire to meet David Tennant, because I already would have.

……….

I Think I Need Help

……….

Hardy was having a very bad day. He had just arrested Lee Ashworth, Ricky Gillespie, and Claire Ripley, and he was having a hard time wrapping his head around the end of the Sandbrook case. Not only was this case one of the hardest things he had ever had to go through, the thing that had literally broken his heart, but it was also the case that had, just now, broken his sense of trust.

Of course, Hardy had never trusted people, not really. He had learned that the hard way, with his parents always fighting and Tess cheating on him. But despite some of the horrible circumstances in his life, he had always trusted a few people, and he had always trusted himself and his instincts.

Now, Hardy wasn’t sure if anything he had ever done in his life was right. He never thought that Claire was the one that stole the locket. Sure, he had never really believed her, and had considered her a possible suspect the whole time, but he had never believed that she was the one that had torn the whole case apart. And then there was the situation with Ricky Gillespie…

He had worked the Sandbrook case until it nearly killed him because of Ricky. Daisy had been the same age as Pippa at the time of the murder, and Hardy had felt so awful, so heartbroken, for Ricky that he had literally broken his heart trying to solve it. he had nearly drowned pulling Pippa from the lake, had nearly killed himself when the case fell apart, and had broken his heart past the point of no return. And, all along, Ricky was involved.

The thought made Hardy sick. He felt disgust, anger, sorrow, and an overwhelming sense of helplessness wash over him all at once as he stepped out of the interview room where Ricky Gillespie was sitting. He was relieved that the Sandbrook case was solved, but he would never allow himself to breathe a sigh of relief until the cases went through the courts and the three murderers were locked up for good. He had learned his lesson the first time around with this case, and with the Danny Latimer case shortly after.

Hardy strode through the bullpen quickly, grabbing his coat off the rack and flinging it over his shoulder. “I’m going home.” He announced to the room. He was gone before anyone could reply.

Hardy walked home slowly. For once, he was enjoying the salty breeze that was playing over his face and ruffling his hair. When he reached his house, it took him no time at all to kick off his shoes and drop down onto his sofa. He flung an arm over his face and willed himself not to cry. He had shed enough tears over the Sandbrook case.

He brooded on the sofa in silence for an hour, contemplating the many different, horrible things that had happened to him over his lifetime that had left him as the broken man that he was now.

Just as he was about to get up and make himself a cup of tea, needing to get up and move before he was drowned in his horrible thoughts, there was a knock at the door. he turned to see Ellie standing there with a scowl on her face.

Hardy sat up and waved her in. She came in and sat in the chair that was off to the side of the sofa.

For once, she skipped the pleasantries. “I’ve never seen you leave an interview so quickly. You were out of the building before I’d stood from my chair.” She stated. Hardy wasn’t sure if there was a question in there, so he stayed silent. “What’s wrong?” She continued.

“Long day.” Hardy answered shortly. He scratched his beard and shrugged out of his wrinkled suit jacket.

Ellie raised her eyebrows in a look of disbelief.

“Hard day.” Hardy conceded.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Ellie asked.

“Not particularly.” Hardy answered. He stood from the sofa and walked into his small kitchen to make tea. He heard Ellie get up and follow him.

“If you’re this upset, you should talk about it, sir. I’m happy to listen.” Ellie said.

“I said I don’t want to talk about it.” Hardy replied, a little too sharply.

“Fine, keep on being a big grouch, then! I thought I would come and help you out, listen as you vent about your feelings like you did for me after Joe was arrested. But I guess you’re all high and mighty and you’re above feeling emotion!” Ellie snapped. She turned and stalked into the living area to grab her bag.

“Not all of us have the luxury of having in-depth explorations of our feelings, Miller.” Hardy muttered, not turning around from his cupboard, where he was rifling around for a teabag.

“Excuse me?” Hardy heard Ellie whip around and stomp back into the kitchen. “Do you think I had a bloody choice in feelings a bunch of emotions when Joe was arrested? Do you think I _chose_ to become a fucking symbol of ignorance in this town, or that I decided that now would be a good time to start being a shitty mother? I can’t help that I have feelings, Hardy, we can’t all be heartless bastards like you.” Ellie yelled.

Hardy whipped around to stare at Ellie. “And do you think I chose to be this way, Miller? I have been crushed so many times in my stupid, insignificant life that I have no bloody _choice_ whether to act like a heartless bastard. I learned at a very young age that emotion was for the weak, or else my dad would beat me senseless, and I learned from Tess that I should never get emotionally invested in anything. And then, I got emotionally invested in the Sandbrook case and then Danny’s death, and look how those turned out! I don’t get to sit around and cry about my feelings, because someone always gets fucked over when I do!” he yelled. He was gripping the edge of the counter so hard that his knuckles were turning white. “Don’t even pretend to understand my situation, Miller. I have never pretended to understand yours.” He seethed.

“I don’t give a damn about how shitty your childhood was, Hardy, you do not get to treat me like dog shit stuck to the bottom of your shoe!” Ellie snapped back.

“Get out of my house.” Hardy said, his voice dangerously low.

“Fine.” Ellie turned and stalked into the living room, flinging her bag onto her shoulder and ripping the sliding door open hard enough to rattle the glass.

“I hope I never see you again, you heartless bastard.” She muttered, slamming the door behind her. Hardy wasn’t sure if he was supposed to hear that, but he did.

The kettle whistled behind him, and he turned to pour himself a cup of tea. As he let it stew, he contemplated all the things that Ellie had said. She had been right, he had always treated people like shit because of his father. He had hardly ever trusted anyone, had always been uncomfortable in the face of tears (or any emotion, really), had been a horrible boss, coworker, husband, father… what use was he, really? He couldn’t even be a bloody detective anymore.

Hardy sipped his tea as he walked to his bathroom and opened his medicine cabinet, rifling through the contents to find a box of replacement blades for his seldom-used razor. He found them all the way in the back, behind a half-empty box of Band-Aids and an old, nearly empty bottle of over-the-counter pain meds.

He’d always been a useless burden to everyone in his life, he might as well end their misery along with his own.

……….

Ellie started feeling terrible when she was about halfway back to her house. She slowed her car and smoothly pulled into the parking lot of a chippy, resting her head on the steering wheel. She felt horrible for yelling at Hardy like that, and especially for saying that she never wanted to see him again. She had just wanted to help, and him snapping at her about it had sent her over the edge.

It wasn’t Hardy’s fault that he didn’t feel comfortable talking about his feelings. She sighed and banged her forehead against the steering wheel. Hardy was distraught, emotionally vulnerable, and she had _yelled_ at him. Screamed at him about how he was a heartless bastard and how his horrible childhood meant nothing.

Ellie gritted her teeth and swung her car around, heading back down the road to Hardy’s house. She had to apologize. Any normal day, she would just ignore the row and pretend it didn’t happen, but Hardy had had a bad day and she felt truly awful for how she had treated him. Despite how obnoxious, annoying, and rude Hardy was most of the time, Ellie did consider him to be her friend, and she wanted to make sure he was okay.

She made quick work of the drive back to Hardy’s house. She got out of her car slowly, trudging up to Hardy’s door and knocking softly. She was afraid that he wouldn’t let her in.

She didn’t hear any movement, so she knocked again, harder. Unless Hardy had fallen asleep in the last five minutes, that would surely bring the old grouch to the door.

Ellie waited for a moment, but Hardy didn’t come to the door. She was about to leave and look for him elsewhere, maybe on the cliffs, when she heard a faint moan come from inside the house. Had he been attacked?

Concerned, Ellie pushed open the sliding door and trudged through Hardy’s small house. She checked the living room, the kitchen, and his bedroom. Finding nothing, Ellie braced herself to potentially see her boss naked, something that she really wasn’t looking forward to, and pushed open the bathroom door.

She felt all of the air leave her lungs. Hardy was lying on the floor, slumped against the small shower in the corner. His face was snow white, his eyelids fluttering. There was a razor blade in his right hand; a thick crimson liquid was dripping off it. There were several deep, vertical gashes on both of his wrists. They were gushing blood, creating a large pool that was spreading around Hardy and soaking into his clothes.  
  


“Oh shit, oh my God…” Ellie didn’t waste a second. She quickly snatched her mobile out of her purse, dialing 999 and pinched her phone between her ear and shoulder as she scrambled for the linen cupboard. She hadn’t been in Hardy’s bathroom very many times, but it didn’t take long to find it. She took two hand towels out and dropped to her knees next to Hardy. She took off her belt and used it to secure one of the towels around Hardy’s left wrist, tightening it hard enough for Hardy to hiss, even though he was mostly unconscious. She wrapped the other towel around Hardy’s wrist and pressed on it, using her other hand to undo Hardy’s belt. She pulled it from its beltloops and used it to secure the towel. As she frantically explained the situation to the 999 operators, she reached up and loosened Hardy’s tie and unbuttoned the top few buttons of his shirt. She absently wiped at the tears on her face, realizing too late that there was blood on her hands.

As she waited for the paramedics, Ellie held both of Hardy’s wrists and squeezed, helping the belts keep too much more blood from leaving Hardy’s body. He was already so pale…

“Hardy, come on, sir, you need to wake up!” Ellie yelled. She reached up and, in a moment of bravery, slapped him hard across the face. It woke him up, but barely. Hardy’s eyelids fluttered, and he didn’t focus on Ellie. “Hardy, you can’t go to sleep, okay? I need you to listen to my voice, okay? Don’t give up, sir.” She pleaded. She heard sirens approaching. “I believe in you, sir, I know you can make it.” Ellie heard her voice shake and realized that she didn’t much care. “Talk to me, Hardy.” She whispered.

“Want… die… lemme go…” Hardy muttered. Ellie heard him straining to breathe, and absently prayed that his pacemaker could keep up with the trauma his body was going through.

“I’m not going to let you die, Hardy.” Ellie whispered. She heard the screech of brakes outside, and heard footsteps running up to the door. When she heard the door bang open, she got off the ground and directed the paramedics into the bathroom.

“He’s got heart problems, a pacemaker. That…” Ellie gulped and pointed to where she had put the razor blade on the counter. “That’s what he used. Is he going to be okay?” she asked quietly, not trying to hide the tears on her face.

“I can’t say for sure ma’am, but it’s a good thing you found him. It looks like he would have died if you hadn’t found him within a few minutes of when you did.” a paramedic, the leader, by the looks of it, replied. Ellie was shepherded out of the way as Hardy was lifted onto a gurney and rushed out of the house.

“Can I ride with him?” Ellie asked.

“Yes, ma’am. Come with me.” The paramedic herded her out of the house. She quickly scooped up her bag from the bathroom floor and made sure that Hardy’s door was closed (she even locked it; she had a key) before she clambered into the back of the ambulance.

Ellie quickly shot a text to Tom, saying that there was an emergency. She explained that she was fine, but his Aunt Lucy was going to pick him and Fred up, and they would have to spend the night. As an afterthought, she texted Lucy and informed her that she was to get the boys from school and daycare and take care of them for the night.

After everything was set, Ellie leaned forward and tentatively held Hardy’s hand, careful of the new bandage that the paramedics had wrapped around his wrist. Even though she didn’t really believe in God, she found herself praying that her boss would be alright.

They made it to the hospital quickly, avoiding all traffic because the sirens were wailing. Ellie was practically shoved out of the ambulance as the paramedics pulled Hardy from the vehicle and handed him off to handful of nurses that were waiting in the emergency bay.

Hardy was wheeled off to the right while Ellie was escorted to the left. She was given a pair of sweatpants and a loose t-shirt with the hospital’s logo on it because her clothes were covered in Hardy’s blood. Ellie absentmindedly walked into the ladies room and changed. She brought her suit out and handed it to one of the people sitting at the front desk, asking them to throw it away. She never wanted to wear it again.

Ellie sat and fiddled with the strap of her purse as she waited, too worried to do anything on her phone or watch the boring news program that was playing on the telly in the corner. She kept trying to distract herself from the thoughts that were nagging her, but she could barely keep them away. She had a sick feeling that this could be her fault, and she wasn’t sure what she would do if she found out that it was.

She sat there for three hours with her thoughts before anyone came out to tell her anything.

“Alec Hardy?” a man called, stalking through a set of double doors that said “emergency” in big, red letters.

“Yes, I’m here for him.” Ellie stood and nearly ran toward the man.

“Are you family?” the man asked. Ellie noted that he seemed bored, and that would make her terribly angry on any other day. But at the moment, she was too worried and tired to care.

“No, but I’m the one who found him. He’s my friend.” Ellie explained.

“If you’re not family, I can’t tell you anything other than that he’s alive. He’s awake if you would like to see him.” the man said. He examined his cuticles, and Ellie felt the urge to strangle him. She didn’t.

“Yes, please.” She said politely.

“This way.” The man turned and stalked through the double door, leaving Ellie practically jogging to keep up with his long strides.

The man stopped next to a door with big blue sign on it that said “suicide watch” and gestured for her to go in. Ellie gave herself a moment to steel her nerves before she entered.

Ellie felt her heart constrict at the sight of Hardy. He was sitting up in his bed with the thin hospital blanket pooling around his waist. He looked small and pale in his hospital gown, with thick white gauze wrapped halfway up his arms. He had leather cuffs loosely strapped around his wrists, which made Ellie’s eyes prickle.

What was even worse, though, was the faraway, broken look on Hardy’s face. Ellie was so used to him being snarky and having a scowl permanently stuck on his face that she felt her heart give a painful lurch when she saw how tired he looked. He was staring at the ceiling when she entered, but he glanced her way when he heard her footsteps.

He didn’t say anything, not even “Miller,” which nearly broke Ellie’s heart.

“H-hello, sir.” Ellie stuttered. She cautiously sat in the chair next to Hardy’s bed. He didn’t answer her, just kept staring at her. Ellie noticed a deep sorrow in his eyes, which made her scoot a bit closer. Ellie didn’t know what to say, so she gently grasped Hardy’s hand and squeezed.

Hardy glanced down at their joined hands and then back at her, still not saying anything.

“I was worried about you.” Ellie whispered. Hardy didn’t reply. He turned his head to continue staring at the ceiling. Ellie felt a small swell of hope in her chest when he didn’t pull his hand out of hers. “I’m… I’m sorry about what I said earlier. I didn’t mean it.” Ellie whispered.

“You did.” Hardy croaked. Ellie felt pain seize her chest and she finally allowed herself to consider the possibility that this was her fault.

“I didn’t, sir. I was angry and… I was foolish and I just wanted to hurt you. I… yes, okay, sometimes you don’t treat me all that well, but I still consider you my friend. I should not have tried to force you to talk about your feelings and I certainly shouldn’t have gotten angry and yelled at you because you didn’t want to. I didn’t mean it when I said I never wanted to see you again, I was just angry. I’m so, so sorry, Hardy.” Ellie felt a tear drip from her eyelashes. “And I’m not just saying that because… because…” Ellie swallowed thickly. “I went back to your house to apologize, that’s when I f-found you.” Ellie stuttered.

Hardy turned his head to look at her again. They sat in silence for a long moment. “You should have just let me die, Miller.” He whispered.

Ellie felt a few more tears fall from her eyes. She had no idea what to say to that. “W-why, sir?” She cried.

Hardy didn’t answer for a long moment. Ellie thought he was just going to ignore the question, but he spoke up just before she said something. “I’m just so tired.” He muttered. “I’m… I’m tired of being shitty at everything. I’m a bad boss, a bad coworker, a bad son, a bad husband, a bad father, a bad friend… I figured everyone would be better off without me.”

Ellie lowered her face. She felt her shoulders shaking, and she fought to pull herself together. “Hardy, you’re not a bad boss, or a bad coworker, or a bad friend. You may be hard to work with sometimes, but you’re passionate and you get the job done. I don’t know anybody other than myself who consider you a friend, but I don’t consider you a bad one. You were there for me when Joe was arrested in a way that no one else was. And as for the other two… well, I don’t really know anything about your marriage, and I have never met Daisy, but I know you, and I know you are a good father. I have heard you leaving messages for her. You love her more than anything, and that alone makes you a better father than a lot of people. I can only assume that you spoiled her senseless when she was a baby.” Ellie explained.

Hardy didn’t answer, again. He simply stared at her. It took Ellie a long moment to realize that he was crying. Hardy’s face was so pale that she wouldn’t have noticed if she didn’t hear them hitting the floor.

In one swift movement, Ellie was out of her chair and standing next to Hardy’s bed. After a moment of hesitation, she gently pulled his head into her stomach, softly stroking his hair. That was the closest to a hug she could get with him chained to the bed. She felt tears of her own again start to well up and fall.

Ellie hugged Hardy as close as she could, running her fingers through his thick, sandy hair. “I’m so sorry, sir.” She cried. She heard Hardy strain against the leather cuffs. She wondered if he wanted to hug her back.

After a few long minutes, Ellie felt Hardy stop shaking, and she pulled away and sat back down. She reached over and once again took ahold of his hand.

“I think I need help, Miller.” Hardy whispered. He just barely squeezed her hand.

“I’ll do whatever I can.” She reassured, squeezing back. Hardy stared at her long and hard, before glancing down at the side of the bed.

“What, no grapes this time?” he joked.

“Oi, cheeky!” Ellie admonished, giving him a watery smile.

Maybe things would be alright after all.

……….

It had ben eight months since Hardy’s suicide attempt, and he was finally moving back into his little blue house. Since he was released from the hospital, he’d been staying at Ellie’s house, watching after the boys as she worked while she made sure that he went to his therapy appointments and took his meds.

He felt better, truly. The combination of his anti-depressants, therapy, and Ellie’s flawless care of him had finally made him realize that he was, in fact, not worthless. The realization that Ellie cared about him had thrown him a great deal at first, but he had slowly gotten used to the small smiles and hand squeezes that Ellie gave him, relishing the love that he felt from her.

It had been a long time since someone had truly cared about him.

But, it was time that he moved back into his house. He was hoping that he could really get his act together and, hopefully in a year or so, go back to work for the Wessex Police. That was his goal, but for now, he would settle for being able to take care of himself for a little while.

Ellie, of course, drove him to his house, helping him carry his bags to his bedroom and the few groceries that he had bought to his kitchen. She stalked around the house and threw open some windows to let in some fresh air and helped him put away his belongings.

Hardy rolled up the sleeves of his jumper as he was putting some food in his cupboards, and he felt Ellie staring at the scars on his wrists. He wasn’t ashamed of them anymore, but he wasn’t proud either. He had learned the hard way, though extensive therapy, that they were simply a part of his past, and he could not outrun that. He carefully dropped his arms to his sides, refusing to roll his sleeves back down.

“Ellie, I think I can finish taking care of everything, if you want to go home.” He said, walking toward her until he was only a few feet away.

Ellie looked at him with a worried expression on her face.

“I’ll be fine. I’ll call you if I need anything, or if I feel like hurting myself. I promise.” Hardy continued, reassuring her. He carefully placed his hands on her shoulders. He bit his lip as Ellie glanced at the scars that were right next to her eyes, her lip wobbling.

Hardy gently pulled her into a hug, wrapping his long arms loosely around her shoulders. He tightened them when he felt Ellie cling to his waist.

“I know I’ve said it a million times, but I am so sorry that you found me like that, Ellie. I can’t imagine what you went through.” He whispered into her hair. He felt her shoulders shake. “I’ll be okay, I promise.”

Ellie held onto him for a while longer before she pulled back, wiping at the tear tracks on her face. “You’ll call me if you need anything?” she asked quietly, her voice cracking.

“I promise. I need you to promise that you’ll call me if you need anything too. Even if you just need to check that I’m okay. My phone will always be on.” Hardy answered.

Ellie nodded and slowly walked toward the door. She stopped and turned when she got to it.

Hardy gave her a small smile, his hands shoved in his pockets. Ellie gave a wobbly nod and walked out, carefully sliding the door closed behind her. She slowly walked to her car, got into it, and left, without looking back.

Hardy smiled and walked back into his kitchen to unpack the rest of his groceries.

Now he was sure that, in the end, everything would be alright.

**Author's Note:**

> The title of this story is from the song “Help” by Papa Roach. If you like edgy rock music that talks about depression and the likes, I highly, highly recommend this song, along with the songs “Disease” by Beartooth and “Lifelines” by I Prevail. These songs have helped me through some very difficult times, and I highly recommend you give them a listen. On another note, I hope everyone is okay after reading this fic. It was hard for me to write, but I felt like it was a story that I needed to tell, if only for my own sanity. And, as always, please, please leave a review if you liked this! Reviews fuel my fire, and help motivate me to write more stories. Anyway, thanks for reading!


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